


Grief

by wingsofanillyrian



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: ACOTAR - Freeform, ACOWAR, Father and son bonding, Feyre dies, Other, acomaf, feysand family, post ACOWAR
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-13 15:19:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14115198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wingsofanillyrian/pseuds/wingsofanillyrian
Summary: Rhysand and his son, Oryn, reflect on Feyre's life.





	Grief

I was so tired of shaking hands and accepting everyone’s condolences. I’d kept a brave face on during the wake and the burial, but now that I was alone, everything came pouring out.

I cried for the loss of my mother, whom I’d only known 19 short years. I mourned the loss of what could have been; the battles and victories we wouldn’t get to share.

I knelt in the dirt once everyone had left. It had rained this morning, which was fitting, I supposed. Moisture seeped into the dress pants I wore, soaking my knees and chilling my very bones.

“Oryn.”

My father’s voice rang through the crisp fall air, disturbing the silence. Leaves crunched beneath his black leather shoes as he moved to stand at my side.

“I’m sorry about the suit,” I mumbled, knowing it was likely ruined by the fresh mud. I brushed the heels of my hands over my reddened eyes and sniffled.

“Don’t worry about it.” He knelt beside me, placing his hand on the intricately carved gravestone. “I miss her too, you know. But your mother… She wouldn’t want us to be sad.”

“She’d want us to tell stories about all her epic adventures,” I finished for him. Despite myself, small smile tugged on the corners of my lips, because it was true. The last thing she would have wanted would be for us to mope around.

I pushed a hand through my honey-colored locks and let out a breezy laugh. “Remember last year when the three of us wreaked havoc on the Summer Court?”

Rhysand barked out a bellowing laugh. “Oh, Gods, I’ll never forget the look on Tarquin’s face when he saw us out drinking with Varian that night. I don’t think I’ve ever seen another Fae so drunk before! I wonder if Tarquin has forgiven his cousin for breaking that precious vase yet.”

“Probably not,” I grinned, recalling the drunken stumble that had caused the centuries-old antique to crash to the floor.

Rhysand shook his head and smiled. “Tarquin was so close to banishing the three of us.”

“But then mom saved the day by concocting that vile, gross green tonic to cure Varian’s hangover the next day.” Varian had woken up ready to fight someone, but as always, mom had been able to salvage the situation. That was one of the many things she was good at.

“Yes, that woman saved us all.” He sighed, running his fingers over the letters engraved in the stone.

“Before you were born, your mother and I used to get into a lot of trouble.”

“Oh, really?” I quirked a brow. “Do tell.”

“You know that she always had a thirst for adventure,” he murmured, and I nodded.

“There was one night, about thirty years ago, that it snowed four feet in the space of a few hours. Fluffy, white powder up to our chests when we opened the door. It was cold as all hell too, but Feyre-” his voice caught, and I looked up to find silver lining his eyes.

This wasn’t easy for either of us. Tears blurred my vision, but I wrapped an arm around my father’s shoulders. We had each other, and though no one would ever fill the holes left in our hearts, we would support each other.

He drew a ragged breath and collected himself as best he could. “She decided to have some fun.”

“Oh boy,” I said, smiling despite my sadness. Mom was always thriving on adrenaline, and had often encouraged me to do dumb, harmless little stunts. I could only imagine where this story was headed, if mom had spearheaded the endeavor.

“Yeah.” He smiled the slightest bit. “After pouring Cassian and I each a shot of the strongest liquor she could find, she decided to convince us males it was an excellent idea to jump off a balcony.”

I couldn’t help it; I burst out laughing. “Really? And you guys fell for it, obviously?”

“You know how persuasive she can-” he winced and corrected himself, “could be. ‘Don’t be babies,’ she told us, ‘I’d do it, and I don’t even have wings to catch me!’ Of course, Cass and I were still skeptical at the softness of the fresh snow, even with the alcohol in out veins.”

“Oh, but your mother really knew how to push Cassian’s buttons. She poked and prodded at his pride until he eventually agreed.”

“The three of us moved to the second story balcony, where the midnight wind whipped at us. Cass teetered as he climbed up on the rail and stripped off his shirt.” He glanced at me then, and seeing my smirk, he added: “Your uncle takes every chance he can get to show off.”

“Anyway, Cassian was standing on the rail, spewing nonsense about how it wouldn’t hurt him at all. But he wouldn’t jump, despite all his rantings about how he was a 'brave Illyrian’ and all that.”

His violet eyes sparkled with a mixture of pride and longing as he turned to me. “Would you care to guess what your mother did?”

I grinned. “She pushed him, didn’t she?” Rhys nodded.

“She pushed that bastard right over,” he said with a watery smile. “He screamed the whole way down. Lucky that he tucked his wings in tight though, and he basically cannonballed right into one of the drifts.”

“I fully expected him to crawl out of the snow with at *least* one broken bone. But no, he shot up, flew back up to where your mother and I stood, flabbergasted by his energy. The three of us spent the rest of the night jumping into the drifts, leaving huge Fae-sized holes in the snowy lawn.”

“That actually sounds kinda fun,” I said, closing my eyes to picture it. 

“Oh, it was a great time.” He smiled wistfully as another tear slid down his cheek. “It became a sort of tradition, until you came along.”

“I think… I think this winter we should start it up again.” Because mom would want us to. She would want us to enjoy life; seize the day.

“That-” he clapped a hand on my shoulder- “sounds like a wonderful idea.”

Thunder rumbled in the distance, and we both glanced to the sky. Lightning flashed in the dark clouds and it started to drizzle.

Even the sky was mourning mom’s death, it seemed.

I leaned forward to press a kiss to the three-mountain sigil at the top of the stone. “I love you, mom.”

“C'mon, let’s go home.” Dad smiled sadly and squeezed my shoulder as we rose to our feet. “She loved you too, son. More than anything.”

“I know.”

It would take a long time to heal from this staggering loss. But I wouldn’t be alone. I had my family, and they had me. We would lean on each other, and it would be hard to fill the gaps left by mom’s death, but we would all work through it together.


End file.
